


Five times a Howling Commando was jealous of super soldier senses (and one time they weren’t)

by PerplexinglyParadoxialPerson



Series: Five Enhanced Senses, Five Teammates, and Bucky [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (and the trauma associated with it), Awesome Howling Commandos, BAMF Peggy Carter, BAMF Steve Rogers, Blood and Gore, Bucky is the mom, Enhanced Senses, First Time Killing Someone, Gen, Howling Commandos Family, Hurt Steve Rogers, I will take no feedback on this, Innuendo, M/M, Men Crying, Mentions of Sex, Mercy Killing, Minor Character Death, Period-Typical Homophobia, Podfic Welcome, Poisoning, Sensory Overload, Steve is the dad, Super Soldier Serum (Marvel), Tapetum Lucidum, Transformative Works Welcome, War, super strength, the explicit warning is for the violence not the sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:07:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28344363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerplexinglyParadoxialPerson/pseuds/PerplexinglyParadoxialPerson
Summary: The Super Soldier Serum is weird, all of the Howling Commandos know that, they heard Bucky talk of a kid that was 5’4”, less than 100 pounds, and caught every sickness that came around, and ended up being saved by the same person, but now 6’2”, at least 200 pounds, and now nearly impossible to get sick.That’s not the extent of his new abilities though, and thank god, because his enhanced senses are so useful (and have saved their lives enough times) that the rest of the Howling Commandos wish they had them!It’s not all fun and games though, this is war after all.
Relationships: Howling Commandos & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes & Howling Commandos, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Five Enhanced Senses, Five Teammates, and Bucky [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2075727
Comments: 75
Kudos: 172





	1. Smell

**Author's Note:**

> Boy am I excited to start posting this! I’ve always been obsessed with enhanced senses, their advantages and disadvantages, and how it would effect a person, and I finally have the chance to post a story purely based on the idea! I will be posting a chapter every Saturday, so I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> This first chapter is... a bit lighter than most of the other chapters. The story is set during a war, and thus has large amounts of violence, death, and pain, and is significantly more explicit in the description of them than my other stories. Please read the tags for warnings! I will try to warn for each individual chapter, but I might miss something!
> 
> Also note, there is a literal pile of characters building that sneaked in while I wasn’t looking... lots of backstory for the Howlies to come!

Monty was worried by Steve’s inexperience. 

He had done a decent job getting them all out of the factory, but he could see Barnes giving him advice constantly, could see the slight hesitation with every order he gave. He knew that the punching Hitler thing was fake, a decent distraction all told, but he had obviously never led much of anything. 

In the battle, he had been very confident, but without the adrenaline of battle, he seemed very unsure of himself and their orders. 

Monty was worried that Steve would ask him for advice on leadership, because he was probably the highest ranked one. 

The very thought made him feel nauseous. 

His father had told him long ago, when he said that he would be promoted, that he would never amount to anything, that he would fail utterly at leading. 

It seemed he had been right, he had led his men into the rather obvious trap, one that had led to the massacre of his entire unit except for himself. It was fitting in a way, that because he was the one to cause their deaths that he alone would survive to bear the pain. He remembered how poor Robert, only sixteen, had looked up to him, and had ended up dead in the dirt for his trouble. There was no way he was going to take control of this ragged group. 

Steve called a well received halt after Bucky tucked himself into Steve’s space and whispered in his ear, yet Steve himself looked as fresh as a daisy. 

The group staggered to a halt, leaning against trees and plopping to the ground. There was a clear, fast-running stream near them, which was always the best way to tell good water from bad water. None of them had been fed well in the factory, and the food in the factory had been destroyed before they had thought to look for food. They had found a few lunches in abandoned vehicles, but it was minimal, and people were hungry. Maybe they could use the water to fill their stomachs at least, an idea that Steve seemed to have as well. 

He was going around the group, gathering up canteens so they didn’t have to get up, which was kind of him. 

All the soldiers that had been in the cell with Bucky had walked together near the front, Bucky walking with Steve, just slightly ahead of everyone, and now they were all sitting by the stream together. 

It was so nice to sit for a while, resting his achy feet. 

Steve came back with a small pile of canteens in his arms, setting them down with a clatter. He grabbed one of them, and knelt next to the stream, filling the canteen with the fast moving water. 

He was about to cap it when his face suddenly twisted, like the water smelled bad. 

“Steve?” Bucky asked, looking worried. 

“It smells weird,” Steve said cautiously. “Smells wrong somehow.” 

“Hand it over,” Bucky said, making grabby hands. 

Steve passed it over, and Bucky sniffed at it. “Smells like plain old water,” Bucky said, looking confused. “Can’t smell anything weird about it.” 

“I’m not lying,” Steve said, grabbing the canteen again and taking another sniff. “Still smells wrong.” 

“Not saying you’re lying,” Bucky said, snatching the canteen again and handing it to Monty. “See if you can smell it,” he said. 

Monty took a sniff and smelt nothing but fresh water. 

Everyone else passed it around, and with every person that thought it smelled fine, Steve seemed to shrink more into himself. “Must be imagining it,” he said sheepishly. 

“No wait,” Bucky said, wrinkling his brow in confusion. “When you told me how you got like this, you said that it gave you enhanced senses. So maybe you’re just smelling something that we physically can’t.” 

“Got like this?” Morita asked. 

“I do seem to remember you talking about a friend of yours back home named Steve,” Dum Dum said. “But from what I heard he was tiny and sick, not Charles Atlas.” 

“He was an idiot,” Bucky said, rolling his eyes. “Signed up for an experimental procedure to heal him and ended up like this somehow.” 

“It wasn’t stupid!” Steve said, “it worked perfectly well as you can see!” 

Bucky just stared at him, eyebrow raised and dryly said, “just because it worked doesn’t mean it ain’t stupid. But back on topic, did any other water you have smell bad.” 

“Don’t try to take the high road Barnes,” Steve said wryly. “I know that you’re just itching to get back to camp so you can chew me out properly. But no, can’t think of any other water that smelled like this that I drank.” 

“Something is probably wrong with this water,” Bucky said. “Better to be safe than sorry, especially with how much walking we have left.” 

“Not too much longer,” Steve said softly, brow wrinkled. “We’ll get you to camp so you can tell me just how stupid I was.” 

“Go and tell everyone else that the water is bad,” Bucky said, pushing him a bit. 

Steve looked at Bucky worriedly, and they seemed to have a conversation with just their eyes. 

“Just tell them that the water is bad,” Bucky said. 

“We’ll support you if you need,” Monty said, drawing the others' eyes to him. “I trust you on this, and we’re not too far from camp if your calculations are right. It might be uncomfortable for a while, but it would be significantly better than getting the runs while walking.” 

The rest of the group cringed as one, all probably remembering at least one instance of getting the runs, incredibly common from the stress, and bad food and water that was so common in a war zone. 

“I’ll go and tell them,” Steve said, getting up and wobbling a bit. 

“I thought you said that all your illnesses were fixed,” Bucky said sharply, sitting up, looking like he was ready to catch Steve if he fell. 

“I’m fine,” Steve said calmly. “I need a bit more food than the average person now, so I feel a little dizzy faster than most. Just stood up too quickly is all.” 

Bucky looked at him sharply, but shook his head eventually, breaking the tension. “Just tell the rest, then come here and rest with us.” 

Steve looked like he was going to argue, but walked away. 

The rest of the group was grumbling a bit, looking eager for water. 

“We won’t be filling up our canteens here,” Steve said calmly. “The water isn’t safe, and we’re not far from the camp, so we’ll just rest for a while, then continue on.” 

“The stream is clear and running fast,” snapped another soldier that was sitting by the stream, a little ways down. “That was exactly what we were told to look for in drinking water. There’s no point in not drinking it, we’re all thirsty!” 

“All of us trust Steve on this,” Bucky drawled. “It’s only a couple more hours until we can get water that will for sure be fine, and there’s still some water in the canteens.” 

“I’ll pass them out again,” Steve said. “Everyone should be able to get some.” “Well I’m going to fill mine up,” the soldier sneered. “And you can’t stop me.” 

“No I can’t,” Steve said calmly. “But I will say, if you and whoever else drinks from that stream gets sick, then it is all on you, and I will not hesitate to say that I told you so.” 

Steve started passing out the other canteens to everyone else. 

“I was expecting you to be on one of the vehicles Barnes,'' Gabe said. “I mean, no one came out of the back rooms, and there was a lot of screaming coming from there.” 

“It was awful,” Bucky said, “but they didn’t make any attempt to torture me, guess they knew I didn’t have any info that they would want. All they did was inject me with a ton of stuff, maybe trying to make a drug or something? It was painful, and I’m pretty sure I lost some memories, and hallucinated a bit, but nothing that really affected me beyond being generally shaky.” 

Then he turned his head towards Steve, who was coming back, and said, rushed, “any of your sabotage plans pan out while I was gone?” 

“We didn’t exactly have a lot of time to put them into action,” Morita said as Steve sat down with them. “But their eyes were off of us once they took you, so we had a few chances. I’m pretty sure the ones we had sabotaged were actually caught up in the explosion though, so it wasn’t exactly a whole lot of help.” 

“What the fuck Steve,” Bucky deadpanned. 

Monty looked over, and saw that Steve’s face was buried in Bucky’s neck, tucked under his chin, and breathing deeply. He hummed absently, acknowledging them, but not moving an inch. 

“What the actual fuck Steve,” Bucky hissed, looking worried. 

Steve looked up, blinked one, twice, then his eyes widened in horror and he pulled away, burying his head in his hands. 

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” he said, muffled by his hands. 

“What the shit was that?” Dum Dum asked, saying what they were all thinking. 

“So you know how I have enhanced senses?” Steve said, not moving his hands from his face, the tips of his ears turning red. “Well now, Bucky’s scent is so much stronger than it was before, it reminds me of when he’d climb into my bed when we were kids so I wouldn’t freeze to death in winter. It’s just... intense and really good, and I’m still getting used to the enhanced senses.” 

“And because I’m familiar, my scent is something you really like,” Bucky said thoughtfully. 

“Like a dog with their owner,” Morita said. 

“A little bit,” Steve said, pulling his head out of his hands. “But can we ignore my embarrassment please? Maybe talk about something else?” 

“You can blush properly now,” Bucky said, sounding almost giddy. 

“Yeah,” Steve said. “My heart isn’t bum anymore, my blood flow is a lot better.” 

“I can think of a lot of ideas now...” Bucky trailed off with a mischievous grin. 

“Don’t you dare!” Steve laughed, pushing Bucky to the ground. 

Bucky pouted overdramatically as he pushed himself up. 

They passed around two partially full canteens, enough for each of them to get two small mouthfuls of warm, metallic tasting water from scavenged Hydra canteens. 

It was the best water Monty had ever tasted. 

“We probably need to get going again soon,” Monty said, glad that Bucky was looking a little less worn. “If we don’t, everyone else might fall asleep.” 

The rest of the group was looking droopy, and he knew himself well enough to know that he didn’t get up soon, it would become nearly impossible. 

Steve darted a concerned look at Bucky, but quickly got up at the glare he got at that, and helped him up. 

The group eventually continued on, but not without some grumbling at getting up again so soon after sitting down. The walk was long and gruelling on their overworked and malnourished bodies, and Monty’s feet ached like crazy. 

After a while they saw the camp slowly coming into view, small groups of people turning to see them, gasping, and running through camp shouting. They came in through the gates, groups of people gathering around them. 

There wouldn’t be anyone here for Monty though, anyone he would have wanted to see was dead. 

Then a woman in a uniform came up to Steve, and they began to talk quietly. 

After a bit, Bucky shouted out, “three cheers for Captain America!” 

The whole camp cheered, and Monty could see photographers on the edge taking pictures. 

Then, Steve turned towards Bucky, staggered, and collapsed. Bucky caught him without hesitation, like he was expecting it, but staggered with the weight. 

The crowd quieted quickly, a worried murmur moving through them. 

“Let’s get him to the medical tent,” the woman said, grabbing one of Steve’s arms from Bucky. “I have a feeling I know what caused it.” 

“Out of the way!” Dum Dum bellowed, striding in front of them to the med tent. 

The crowd split quickly, everyone staring at them. The others helped carry Steve and clear the way. There was no way that Monty was going to leave the guy who had saved them all from certain death alone in the infirmary. 

Once Steve was laid out on a bed, the woman said, “I believe he just hasn’t had enough food, if I’m right about the possibility of you being able to bring much food with you.” 

“Most of the factory was destroyed,” Bucky said cautiously. “So we couldn’t find much food. But he said that all of his previous illnesses were gone. If he had been eating properly, he really shouldn’t have fainted that quickly.” 

“So before the serum,” the woman said thoughtfully, “he fainted a lot. No wonder you caught him so easily.” 

“He did faint pretty often,” Bucky said, an odd look on his face. “And he had just about every circumstance that could make him more likely to faint, a bad heart, bad lungs, sick all the time, and didn’t always have enough food, so I got good at figuring out when it would happen, and catching him. But he really should not be fainting like that, especially if he’s as enhanced as he seems to be.” 

“He eats significantly more than an average human,” the woman said. “About four times as much. I made him eat before he went after you, but if he didn’t eat anything while on the way here, it’s not surprising that he fainted.” 

“He eats that much more?” Bucky said, eyes wide. “He said that he needed to eat a little more than most humans, not four times as much! That reckless little punk! He’s so crazy reckless, I’m surprised he survived this long without me beside him.” 

“I kind of noticed,” she said dryly. “Remind me to tell you how he got chosen for the serum. It’s quite the story.” 

Steve groaned and opened his eyes partially. “What happened?” He asked blearily. 

“You were being stupid and ended up fainting,” Bucky said dryly. “Why didn’t you tell me that you needed four times the amount of food that normal people need?” 

“I didn’t want to worry you,” Steve said sheepishly, looking up at Bucky. “And it’s not like there was any food for me to eat anyway, you couldn’t have done anything.” 

Bucky opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then shook his head and sighed. 

“Well if you try that again,” he said. “Then I will not hesitate to shove the food down your throat myself. Now that I know what you need, I can plan things so you can have it.” 

“Ok,” Steve said, a blush appearing on his cheeks. “Now, could I get some food? I’m starving.” 

“Of course,” Bucky said, getting up. “I’ll be right back with as much as I can get away with.” 

“Well that was worrying,” Gabe remarked blandly. “If you’re going to be fighting, that could be an issue.” 

“I know,” Steve said. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.” 

Then a nurse rushed into the tent and began whispering with another nurse, which then came over to them. 

“Are any of you feeling sick?” She asked. “A few of the other prisoners are feeling sick, and we figured it might be from your time imprisoned.” 

“Would one of those people happen to be named George Bell?” Steve asked. 

“Yes actually,” the nurse said, looking surprised. “I’m guessing you have an idea as to why?” 

“Yeah,” Steve said. “We came across a stream that we rested at, but it didn’t seem right, so I advised them not to drink. George and his friends were determined to get a drink though, and drank it. Looks like I was right.” 

“Good work,” the nurse said with a smile. “How many did drink from that stream?” 

“I’m pretty sure it was just six people,” Steve said thoughtfully. 

“Well there are currently six people from your group that are feeling sick,” she said. “Looks like your instincts were correct.” She nodded at them, and walked away. 

“Nice job,” the woman said. “How could you tell that the water was bad?” 

“Enhanced sense of smell,” Steve said. “It just smelled wrong to me, and I knew there was water here, only a few hours away, so it was better to not take risks.” 

“God am I glad that you didn’t ignore it,” Dum Dum said fervently. “Imagine the whole group feeling bad like that!” 

The whole group shuddered as one. 

“What did I miss?” Bucky asked brightly as he walked into the tent, laden with a few trays. 

“I was right about the water not being good,” Steve said proudly. “Nurse came to us and told us that a few of the men from our group got sick. Turns out, there were six, and one of them was George Bell!” 

“No shit!” Bucky crowed, setting down the three trays. “Your instincts have always been good, and that enhanced sniffer can only help with that.” 

“Well I must be off,” the woman said, straightening her uniform. “There will doubtless be lots of paperwork to do, and things to plan after this stunt. We’ll probably need you to do a debrief Steve, so expect a meeting once things are a bit more organized.” 

“Of course Peggy,” Steve said. She nodded, and walked out of the tent. 

“That skill will be incredibly useful to whatever unit you’re attached to,” Monty said. “Knowing what food and water is tainted could be invaluable. I wish I could smell like that.” 


	2. Sight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is where the angst begins...
> 
> Warnings for graphic depictions of violence, death, gore, throwing up, and (mentioned) period typical homophobia.

Morita hated this mission. This base was an actual, literal castle, and was as damp and dim and creepy as that implied. 

They had split into two groups, the other focused on finding the labs, and him, Steve, Dum Dum, and Jacques focused on containing the people, finding whatever counted as the barracks. 

This was the first mission they had been on as a team, and Steve had said this was the best choice to do first, partially because it looked simple enough to invade, and also because no one in Hydra was expecting anyone to attack them. If this base learned that someone was going after them, they would put their guard up, which would make it a lot harder to get into a literal castle. Their best asset was their stealth. 

There were a lot of winding passages, and Steve led, because they all knew that he was the one most likely to see any traps or problems. The corridors were dim, lined with flickering lightbulbs and nothing else. They had fought a few guards, but no one had the chance to raise the alarm yet. 

Then, suddenly enough that Morita stumbled into him, Steve stopped and held out an arm. 

“Saw something,” he said tilting his head and gazing at the hall in front of him. “Oh!” He said, moving forwards and kneeling down. “It’s a tripwire, who knows what it’s connected to.” 

Now that Morita looked closer, there was a very thin strand of something stretched across the corridor, nearly invisible in the dimness. 

“Good thing you saw that,” he said, awed by how much his sight must be enhanced to see that while moving, not looking for it, while there wasn’t a lot of light. 

“Good thing,” Steve said, getting back on his feet. “We can step over it and keep going, I can’t see any more.” 

They continued on, keeping a wary eye out for traps, now that they knew there were tripwires. Who knew what else may be there? Then they came across a hallway that had no lights at all, and Morita’s stomach sank. 

He had never been a big fan of the dark, due to his grandpa’s stories of onis lurking in the dark, and his older brother’s tall tales, but it had only gotten worse when they travelled to the camps in cramped train cars with no lights, worrying about what would happen next. 

But he trusted Steve, who had been horrified when Morita told them that his family had been sent to internment camps because they were Japanese, and had looked like he would march towards the camp and free his family himself if Bucky hadn’t stopped him. The camps were far more humane than even the rumours of what happened to the Jews that the Germans got a hold of, but Steve still got angry at the mere thought of holding so many people merely for their race. Steve had rescued the whole group of them from the Nazis, he would take them through this darkness with no harm done to them. 

“Everybody grab the shoulder of the person in front of you,” Steve ordered, “don’t want to lose anybody.” 

Morita was the last one to step into the hallway, his heart beating faster. 

“Êtes-vous sûr de ne pas nous égarer dans cette faible lumière?” Jacques asked. 

“It’ll be fine,” Steve said, then Morita yelped, because there was a glowing flash of eyes, like the flashes of cougar’s eyes he had seen in the bushes in the dark of the farm. 

“Oh shit,” came Steve’s voice. “My eyes are glowing aren’t they.” 

“That’s you?” Morita asked, heart still beating far too fast. 

“Yeah,” Steve said sheepishly, as the line began to move again. “The scientists that examined me called it a tapetum lucidum, an extra layer in my eyes that reflects light, like cat eyes. It drove the photographers crazy because it took them a lot of effort to get a photo that didn’t look absolutely bizarre.” 

“And that’s why you can see so well,” Dum Dum said. “That sounds useful.” 

“It is,” Steve said, “it’s definitely still dark, but it’s a lot brighter for me than for you.” 

Morita wished he had that kind of vision, it would be a lot easier to not be scared of the dark if he had a better idea of what was happening. 

As they turned a corner, he saw the light at the end of the hallway and he resisted the urge to cheer. 

“Thank God,” Dum Dum said, “thought we were going to be stuck in the dark forever!” 

When they made it into the next hallway, Steve stopped for a second, cocking his head. “I think the barracks are just a few halls away,” he said. 

They all took that as a hint and began to prepare themselves properly, making sure their guns were loaded and ready, and preparing themselves for a fight. 

Once they were all done, they crept towards the room, probably mostly full now that it was night, and Steve bounced on his toes once, twice, shield in front of him, ready for anything. Then he ran into the door and burst right through it, demolishing the old wood, and chaos ensued. 

They had been right, most of the soldiers in the base were asleep, and they barely had the chance to startle upwards before they were killed in their beds. 

Morita felt bad at that of course, but they were taking part in whatever Hydra was doing, and they couldn’t just leave them there to attack them when they had their backs turned. 

The battle was quick and brutal, and they moved through the room quickly, the previously sleeping soldiers confused and fumbling, where their group was calm and ready. 

Then, as the final soldiers fell, silence settled on the large room, the dripping of blood and harsh breathing the only sounds. 

Morita looked at the destruction in the room, broken cots and torn sheets strewn around, soaked in blood. A nasty sight. Now that the soldiers were dead though, they needed to make it down to the labs, see if the other group had rescued any prisoners. 

Then there were some footsteps echoing through the stone halls, and Bucky peeked around the corner, past the shattered wood and wrenched hinges that were all that was left of the door they had come in through. 

“Hey Steve,” he said conversationally, “good job with the barracks. We could use some help with the prisoners though, they’re pretty hungry, and most of them can’t walk properly. Most of them should live though.” 

“Like these ones won’t,” came Steve’s voice, croaking and hollow, like he was about to cry. 

Morita looked at him. He was scarily pale, the dark blood spattered across his jaw only emphasizing the paper whiteness of his complexion. He was staring dully at the floor, where a dead soldier lay, skull caved in. 

“Don’t think the stains will ever come out of these gloves,” he said, lifting his darkly stained gloves up to stare blankly at them. 

Was that brain goop on them? Morita’s stomach lurched, but so did his heart. Thinking about it now, this was probably the first time Steve had seen the remains of someone he had killed, instead of hitting someone, then immediately moving on. The factory had blown up, but he hadn’t seen the bodies afterwards, and he hadn’t been in battle before that... 

Morita was pretty sure that every one of them remembered their first kill, could bring back the image of the first body they saw that they had caused, and since Steve had dispatched them with his own fists, and not a bullet or grenade... It could only be worse. More personal.

“Stevie—“ Bucky said, incredibly softly. He was interrupted by Steve stumbling out of the small pile of corpses that he had caused, then collapsing to his hands and knees and throwing up on the floor, his entire body heaving with the effort. 

Morita was just glad that Steve had the time to process, instead of having to be dragged straight into killing more. They all knew just how awful it was, and pushing it back only made it come on harder outside of battle. Steve was still young, he remembered, just about 25, and he deserved some time to think. 

Steve was still heaving, though nothing seemed to be coming up but bile, but he was shaking even worse, and sobbing as well. Bucky had come over and was rubbing his back, murmuring soft reassurances and humming softly. 

Morita gestured for them all to leave, and they all shuffled out as quietly as possible, leaving Steve to grieve. 

Bucky caught his eye though, gesturing for him to keep watch. He nodded and stayed just outside the door, just in case there was a patrol coming. Steve would definitely not be up to protecting himself at the moment. 

All he could hear was Steve sobbing, breath heaving in and out, and Bucky trying to reassure him, calling him Stevie and sweetheart interchangeably. 

His heart sunk. He wasn’t stupid, he knew that no man would call a friend sweetheart like that. But if Bucky said it that easily, while someone else was keeping watch, like he had asked Morita to, then who knew when else they might slip up? 

His older brother had liked guys, and he had only found out when he walked in on him kissing one of his friends. He had kept the secret of course, but he had heard of so many stories of people in San Francisco doing awful things to catch their neighbours doing that, getting them tossed in prison. People drilled holes in the walls, spied on people, and invaded privacy completely. It had been horrifying to hear about. 

And now... what would the army do if they caught Steve and Bucky? 

He had to keep it a secret for them, like he couldn’t keep the secret for his brother. Niko had ended up getting sterilized in prison with his boyfriend. He couldn’t fail Steve or Bucky that way, now that he might be able to do something about it. 

He could hide it for them now, instead of standing by in horror as he watched one of his friends look in on them like they were killing each other rather than kissing lovingly. Niko had been expecting Morita to come home alone from school, like he did every Thursday, but he had randomly decided to bring a friend home. It had been his fault that he had been thrown into prison, despite the fact that Niko had refused to say it in his final letter. He would get it right this time.

Eventually Steve’s sobs hiccuped to a stop. “Bucky,” he gasped. “I... I killed them. They’re gone.” 

“I know sweetheart,” Bucky said softly, “it’s okay.” 

“It’s not!” Steve gasped. “Just... look at them! I fucking... tore them apart!” 

There was a pause, then Bucky said, “come on, let’s get out of the room, the smell of puke probably isn’t helping.” 

“What if I hurt you?” Steve whimpered, voice trembling. “All I meant to do was punch them to knock them out, but they ended up with their fucking skulls crushed! What if I hurt you by accident!” 

Morita hadn’t even considered that would be something to be worried about with super strength, but being afraid you’d hurt your friends by accident... it sounded terrifying. 

“I trust you,” Bucky said softly, “but if it makes you feel better, you don’t have to hold onto me.” 

Steve staggered out of the room, face still dramatically pale, tear tracks visible in the dust on his face, Bucky close behind him, looking ready to catch him if he fell. 

“Oh,” Steve said quietly when he met Morita’s eyes, then collapsed to sit against the stone wall. 

“It’s alright,” Morita said, worried for Steve. “If you hadn’t killed them, it would have made things a lot more difficult. We have people that were prisoners here and they aren’t in good shape according to Bucky. If those soldiers were alive, we’d have to worry about them waking up and going after the prisoners, maybe even alerting someone so they can ambush us. As much as I hate it, killing them is the best option.” 

“And besides,” Bucky said softly. “If you hit them that hard, they probably died instantly, no suffering. It’s so much better than a long slow death.” 

Steve and Bucky looked at each other for a long moment, like they were reading each other’s mind. But thinking about it, Bucky would know better than anyone what it was like to die slow judging by the screaming from the labs. Maybe Bucky could get it through Steve’s head what he had seen on the battlefields. 

“Sorry,” Steve whispered, slumping against the wall. “I’m acting so dramatically when the both of you are so calm. This is stupid, it’s clearly normal in war.” 

Morita shared a look with Bucky, concerned. 

“Not exactly,” Morita said. “I would bet you absolutely anything that most of us remember our first kill, and a lot of the ones after. We aren’t really used to it, we’ve just gotten better at dealing with it. The ones who get used to it, the ones that don’t feel anything when they kill someone... they’re the ones that end up enjoying killing. It’s... an awful thing to kill another person, but sometimes it’s necessary.” 

“Not one person in this group would make fun of you for reacting like that,” Bucky said firmly, looking like if they did say anything, he would not hesitate to attack them. “We... we’ve all been here a lot longer than you, been in the trenches. It would be incredibly weird if you dealt with it easily after only one previous mission, especially one that happened as it did.”

“And remember the important things, we’re rescuing those prisoners, keeping Hydra from hurting anyone else. Believe me, I wish we didn’t have to kill either, but it doesn’t always work that way.” 

“Thanks Bucky,” Steve whispered. “I think everyone else is coming up.” 

“Hey guys,” Gabe said, coming up the staircase. “We ready to move on?” 

“Guess so,” Steve said, voice raspy with tears. 

“We’ll have to walk to the pickup spot,” Monty said, coming up the stairs. “You should probably stay in front, keep watch for any patrols we missed.” 

The additional advantage of making sure the prisoners didn’t see Captain America so worn down wasn’t mentioned, but they all knew that Steve could sense patrols from far enough away that it wasn’t necessary for him to be in front, but that way, he would have the chance to gather himself more. 

“Bucky should be in front too,” Morita said, knowing that they all knew it was just an excuse. Bucky could help Steve, and it probably didn’t help him any to see what the prisoners had gone through in terms of experiments. “He is a sniper after all.” 

He could see the relief in Bucky and Steve’s eyes when he said that. 

“Let’s get going,” Steve said, wiping his eyes. “Me and Bucky can clear the outside before the prisoners get out.” 

“Mais oui,” Dernier said, and they made their way down the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!


	3. Hearing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, major warning for mercy killing, implied torture, and general sadness. This one is very sad.

Timothy loved being on a team with a super soldier. 

Their targets were difficult, and all in enemy territory, but they were actually a team, not just a unit. With Steve at the helm, they all knew they had specifically been chosen because they were the best, that they were irreplaceable and incredibly valuable. 

It felt like a spotlight being shined on him to have that kind of recommendation. They had even been in a few newsreels! 

Sometimes he couldn’t help but dream of talking to his dad, who had berated him so much when he was a kid. He was actually in newsreels, doing something incredibly important for the war effort, and an indispensable part of an important team, while his dad was dead and gone, with no one to remember his name except for him and his siblings, who only thought of him in derision. 

And because they were so important, they got all the supplies they needed. He had a girl back home that he wanted to go home to, and he wasn’t stupid enough to ignore the fact that he likely would have died if he continued to be a normal soldier. The rates of death for being on the front lines were scary. Even though it might seem like their missions would be even more dangerous, make it more likely for all of them to die, with all the crazy weapons Hydra had, and being behind enemy lines and all, but it couldn’t be more wrong. 

Sure, they had all were in danger every second they were in enemy territory, but considering their chances, most of them should have been dead by now. 

The thing was, Steve was an incredible leader, always taking their ideas into consideration, making sure they all had the tools they needed to do their jobs, keeping them all in tip top shape. He didn’t stand on formality, except in front of the brass, which made it easier to tell him when the plan needed to be tweaked, and made it a lot easier to see him as a friend. It was easy to trust him, to trust his orders, because they all knew that he had spent quite a while going over the plan. 

They were in the middle of the woods, trying to get to a Hydra base without being seen. They had been dropped off a while ago, and they had already spent a night in the woods, so they could be as unexpected as possible. 

It was incredibly boring, but they had to stay quiet because they didn’t know if there were patrols at all, due to the density of the woods, so they couldn’t even sing marching songs. 

Steve tended to rush ahead though, forgetting that he was faster than them, then circling back sheepishly and going behind them to check things out there too. It was oddly like he was a big puppy, like the ones that the circus had trained, so excited to be walking that he rushed around like crazy. 

Bucky just took it in his stride and was accommodating of it. He said that Steve hadn’t had the chance to run wild much when he was a kid because of how sick he was, so he was relishing the chance to do it. The look in his eyes reminded him of a kid almost, excited about life and ready to do things. 

Of course, he always sobered up when they were ready to fight, or planning something, but it always reminded him of the fact that those two were younger than everyone else on the team, in their mid twenties where everyone else was at least thirty. 

Of course, Bucky was a bit more serious, had his fill of war and pain, where Steve had only had his rescue of them, and their first mission, a milk run, but Bucky got this look in his eyes sometimes when Steve was racing around like this. 

He had tried chasing Steve around for fun once, but he hadn’t even come close to catching up, and Steve had looked so sad when it hadn’t worked, so Bucky hadn’t tried again. He always looked happy when Steve was like this though, eyes shining in admiration. 

Then Steve froze, putting a hand up in a “quiet” motion. They all halted, knowing that Steve had enhanced senses, and probably knew that something was up. 

Steve tilted his head slightly, looking around him carefully. It was a long, slow, moment of silence, Steve gazing around, eyes oddly unfocused. 

Then he gestured for them to move again, keeping silent. Steve guided them slowly, looking like every ounce of his brain was focused on just this. 

It was eerie to move around in silence like this, every twig crack sounding like a bullet being shot, making his heart race every time. He strained to catch even a hint of whatever Steve had sensed, but caught nothing, like he knew would happen. Steve had enhanced senses after all. 

The way through the forest was slow, and he felt like he would have a heart attack before they got through the forest. Eventually Steve stopped and took a deep breath, relaxing. 

“I think we’re good now,” he said quietly. 

“What did you sense?” Bucky said, a little quieter than usual. 

“I heard a patrol,” Steve said. “They weren’t trying to be very quiet, and my hearing is way better than theirs, but I wanted to be extra sure that we wouldn’t alert them.” 

“Good idea,” Monty said, also quieter than usual. “Do you think there are any other patrols?” 

“Don’t think so,” Steve said. “Not near us anyway. I’m lucky I heard them.” 

“Good thing,” Gabe said. “Can you keep an ear out for more patrols as we move?” 

“Of course,” Steve said, and they all continued on towards the base. 

Timothy wished he could hear like that. 

+-+

The base was surprisingly easy to infiltrate, with Steve knowing exactly where the patrols were, letting them avoid them. 

Their goal was to infiltrate the base as subtly as possible, gather as much information as possible, then blow the whole place up. This was a way station of sorts, so they needed to make sure that no trace remained for them to build off of. 

They had initially been planning to split up, but with Steve’s ears, they decided to stick together instead. They needed to gather all the information they could get, get to the bottom of the base, place the bombs, then blow the base up. They were lucky that the base was relatively small, so placing the bombs would be easy, even within their time limit. 

The record rooms were easy, Hydra was surprisingly meticulous and organized. They grabbed as many important looking files as they could, stuffing them into the backpacks they all carried specifically for this. The files would be heavy, but with Steve, and also him, with his weight lifting history, they should make it out of the base easily. 

They made their way to the bottom of the base, but as they went down a hallway, Steve stopped with an odd look on his face. 

He hadn’t put his hand up for silence though, so Timothy asked, “what is it?” 

“It’s just...” Steve said absently, looking distracted. “I caught an odd smell that almost smelled like the base you were prisoners in. It’s not important, it is a Hydra base after all, not surprised it smells similar.” 

Timothy had his doubts. While Steve’s senses weren’t very precise, and Steve wasn’t very practiced in using them, he had still easily figured out that the water was bad, and for him to notice the scent... something was up. 

It also helped that Bucky didn’t look like he believed Steve either, and he was Steve’s childhood best friend, if anyone knew Steve was lying, it would be Bucky. 

They continued on anyway, winding their way through the tight halls, barely noticing any patrols near the bottom of the base. 

Then Steve cocked his head and gestured for silence. As he listened, he looked more and more worried, face slowly crumpling. 

“I think there’s prisoners in here,” he said, turning to them all. 

“Can you find them?” Bucky asked. 

“Think so,” Steve said, starting to walk, looking completely focused on the sound. 

Bucky had to grab him so he didn’t walk straight into a wall, but they began to move. Bucky had to keep a close eye on him, because Steve was incredibly focused on finding the sound, and nearly walked straight into two walls, and almost tripped over several thresholds. Then they made it to a small staircase, and Bucky almost had to wrestle Steve to the ground so he wouldn’t tumble down the stairs. 

They crept down the staircase as quietly as they could, letting Steve listen for the prisoners. 

“They’re down here I think,” Steve said quietly, turning a corner. 

Then he froze, gasping in surprise, then bolted into the room. The rest of them went down slower, not eager to see a scene that might bring back memories of what happened in the factory. 

Timothy turned the corner and saw a stone room, with metal bars across it, and three prisoners in tattered clothes laying on the floor. 

With a wrenching, creaking groan, the door of the cell was torn off by Steve, and he dropped to his knees beside them. 

“We need to help them!” 

Gabe kneeled down beside them, looking very concerned. 

As Timothy got closer, he could hear the faint rasp of their breath, uneven and strained. They were all incredibly skinny, and he could see many half healed injuries on their exposed skin. They looked and sounded like the people in the cells in the factory that hadn’t lasted the night, the ones that died slow and painfully, from infection and hunger and sickness and exhaustion. He had a feeling that they wouldn’t be able to rescue these ones. 

“What do we do?” Steve asked, hands fluttering around them, not wanting to touch just in case, but wanting to help. 

The rest of them shared a look, probably all remembering the people that hadn’t survived the cells.

“Not sure,” Gabe said. “I have stuff to patch us up, basic medical supplies, but nothing I can think of that would help much. We can try to wake them up though.” 

Bucky gestured for the others to disperse to look for files and other info, probably so they wouldn’t crowd the prisoners. 

As Timothy went through the filing cabinets, he heard a groan from across the room. 

“Are you okay?” Steve asked. “We’re here to rescue you, don’t worry.” 

“Leave me,” the guy croaked, breathing raspy. “Get out of here before they come back.” 

“It will be fine,” Steve said, “we’ll get you out of here.” 

“You won’t,” the man rasped. “None... none of us would make it out of the country, even me.” 

He stopped to take several gasps of air, shaking with it. Everyone had paused, not quite staring, but not able to look away. 

Timothy had a feeling that he knew what he was going to say, he had seen it happen in a cell across the way, someone too sick and tired to keep going, knowing that they had a slow death ahead of them and not being able to bear it. Their friend had cried as he did it, but the snap of a neck had been unmistakable. The remaining man had been the next one to be taken, and they had heard his screams for days before they had stopped, and Bucky had been the one taken. 

“Just kill us,” the man rasped into the silence. “We agreed, we would rather have a quick, painless death than a long and painful one.” 

“But we can take you to camp!” Steve said sharply. “We have doctors and supplies there!” 

“None of us will make it that long, we’re far behind the lines, you’ll never make it back with us slowing you down. I would much rather you destroy this place as soon and as thoroughly as possible. The other two will never wake up.” 

“But—“ Steve said wildly, but Bucky kneeled beside him and grabbed his hand. 

“They’re choosing this Stevie,” he said, quiet and calm. “Allow them the dignity of their choice. You don’t have to look if you don’t want to.” 

Steve looked at him desperately, but said, “with how enhanced my senses are... I’ll be able to imagine it easily—too easily. I’d rather know than have to imagine.” 

“It’ll be quick,” Bucky said quietly, more to himself than anybody else. “I swear.” 

“Then do it,” the man rasped, closing his eyes. 

Bucky bowed his head and placed his hands on his cheeks. Timothy turned his head to look at the files in the file cabinet he was looking through, despite the way his vision blurred with tears. 

He heard a snap that echoed strangely through the room, and focused harder on the cabinet and the blurred papers inside it. 

There was some shuffling, and another snap, then a last one, and someone sobbed once, dry and shaking. 

“I’m glad you found them Steve,” Bucky said weakly, voice thick and cracking. “So they could die quick and painless instead of having the building collapse in on them. If the explosion didn’t reach this place… their death would be slow. I can’t imagine a worse fate.” 

Timothy figured that if anyone could understand what the prisoners had been through, it was Bucky, who they had heard screaming for two days and a night before Steve had come to rescue them. He had survived of course, had even managed to keep up with them on the way back, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t understand why they might choose a quick death over a slow one. 

There was some shuffling, and Steve walked towards the door of the room, saying faintly, “come on guys, let’s blow this place to the ground.” 


	4. Taste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place right after a oneshot of mine, An Engagement, a Conversation, and a Wedding, but the gist is, Steve and Bucky get married during the war while waiting for a spy in an abandoned village. There’s a bit of radio speak in here, and I tried my best, but please inform me if I got it wrong!
> 
> Warnings for: one innuendo, period typical homophobia, and poisoning.

Jacques was glad to be back in his native France. Even if it was taken over, and they were currently in an empty house in the middle of what used to be a bustling village, it was still his home. 

And of course, it was only made more like home by the presence of friends, like the ones currently flopped over the table in a hungover stupor. 

He hadn’t partaken last night, at least not enough to get drunk, and with every sip of good French wine, he had promised himself that he would help free France from the Nazi tyranny, so that nights like that could happen again. 

Most people would think that, after yesterday’s hangover, the others would think to not consume even more alcohol that evening. Of course, there had been a wedding yesterday... 

And speak of the devil, he thought as the door swung open, revealing Steve and Bucky outside, up later than he had ever seen them, and all but glowing. 

“So you’re finally up,” Peggy said from the stove, where she was cooking up some of their rations. “You must have been up quite late last night.” 

Steve turned beet red instantly, and Jacques could see a faint blush on Bucky’s cheeks as well. 

“You jealous?” Bucky said, smirking. “It was our wedding night after all!” 

This was part of the reason why he wished so fervently for his beloved France to be free again, because the nightclubs and safe spaces for queers that had flourished before German occupation, were now closed and destroyed, the community scattered. He had attended many a wedding like the one that had happened last night, not quite public, but so happy, no proper priest, but as real a marriage as the ones that were presided over by someone who could officially marry them. 

And of course, he had his own dalliances with men, but the mood only struck him once in a blue moon, so it didn’t effect him much. 

The rest of the mythical Howling Commandos were still face planted into the table, groaning at the noise that pierced their hangovers. 

“It might be a while yet before they come out of their stupors,” he said in French, knowing that Steve (and probably Bucky) would understand him. 

Steve had learned French so quickly he hadn’t even noticed it happening, and only from him speaking it with Gabe, and Bucky was also learning it quickly. It was nice to be able to properly talk with more than one person on the team without having needing an interpreter. 

“Was it that much of a party?” Bucky asked. 

“Yes,” Peggy said quietly. “You know this lot, any excuse for a party.” 

“I take offence to that,” Gabe groaned into the table. 

“What’s for breakfast?” Steve asked, moving towards the stove. 

“Just rations,” Peggy said, “not much of a wedding feast.” 

“Wait!” Steve said, straightening up, “I need to get something!” 

He rushed out of the house, and was back before they could even question his disappearance. He came back with a small fabric package held carefully in his hands, stained with a little bit of blue on one side. 

“It’s pastries!” Steve said excitedly, unfolding the fabric carefully. Everyone perked up at that, even the ones who had drank the most last night. 

“How on earth did you get those?!” Peggy said, turning off the oven and stepping away. 

“One of the ladies at the base gave them to me,” Steve said with a grin. “She seemed to think that it might make me more accepting of her advances. I was planning on saving them for after we destroyed the base, but...” he shrugged with a smile. “No better reason to celebrate than getting married.” 

Bucky immediately smacked a loud kiss to Steve’s cheek and said, “I love you for this sweetheart!” 

“That’s just your sweet tooth talking,” Steve said, fending away Bucky’s hands. “You’re only getting half of one, like everyone else.” 

“What’s mine is yours?” Bucky questioned, widening his eyes and fluttering his lashes. 

“For actual pastries, you’re on your own,” Steve said brightly. 

He grabbed a knife and carefully cut all four pastries in half, then handed them around. 

“There’s no potatoes in this pastry,” Monty groaned. “It’s actual, real pastry!” 

“How in fuck did she get these?” Morita wondered with stars in his eyes. 

It really was a fantastic pastry, light and sweet, with a perfect balance of sweet and tart in the filling, and delicious as could be. 

“Mmmm,” Bucky sighed, licking his fingers. 

Then Steve actually moaned, loud and shameless, groaning in pleasure. 

“Really Steve?” Jacques said, “do you really need to moan like that?” 

“This is so much better than anything I’ve ever eaten,” Steve huffed. 

“Really?” Bucky said sceptically. “Because that one time we got a pastry back at home, that was definitely at least close to this.” 

“Or maybe,” he said, looking thoughtful. “Maybe your sense of taste was enhanced too. It would sure explain all the stuff you lapped up last night,” he said with an absolutely wicked grin. 

Dum Dum looked horrified and whined “da-ad, mom’s being gross again! Tell him to stop!” 

Steve grinned like the cat that got the canary despite the blush all down his throat and said “we’ll tell you when you’re older.” 

Dum Dum sputtered to a stop and stuck out his tongue, going back to his breakfast. 

Jacques couldn’t imagine the pastry tasting any better, but he wished he could taste like that, just to try it. 

The rest of the morning was cheerful, Jacques and Gabe went out in the woods to see if they could scavenge anything for Steve’s ridiculous metabolism, and also keep an eye out for anyone coming. 

The spy came up to them about an hour before noon, looking a little ragged. 

“I’ll make a small meal for you my friend,” Jacques said once the proper pass phrases were exchanged. “You look hungry.” 

“Very much so,” the man said, “and call me James.” 

While the food began to cook, everyone seemed to appear out of thin air, and the man asked, “why are there so many empty bottles? From what I know, you have only been here for two nights!” 

“We had a bit of a celebration last night,” Morita said. “It was—“ he seemed to realize what he was about to say, and Steve’s eyes widened in fear. 

“It was a celebration of Steve finally getting the guts to—kind of propose to Peggy?” 

He looked around, looking a little frantic. 

“More of a promise ring type thing,” Gabe said calmly. “And besides, who doesn’t like a celebration?” 

“Fair enough,” James said quietly, accepting the plate handed to him and beginning to eat. 

They played a few games of cards as he finished his food, then they all came together to make a plan for the attack on the next base. The spy had a lot of useful information, and though he didn’t say much, what he did say was always a smart idea, and the plan was made quickly. 

“I should go now,” Peggy said, getting out of her seat. “I need to get this information to headquarters as soon as possible.” 

“How about you don’t,” Morita said, “if we’re left alone with mom and dad without someone sane, we’ll all be bailing before we even get to the base! And they’re only going to be worse after yesterday!” 

“Tough luck soldier,” she said brightly. “It’ll probably take about half an hour to get everything ready, so James, you can rest until we’re ready to go.” 

“Thank you ma’am,” he said quietly. 

“What does being a spy involve?” Dum Dum asked as Peggy headed out the door. 

“A lot of waiting and listening,” James said. “Occasionally poisoning someone.” 

“Sounds... kind of boring actually,” Dum Dum said. 

“What kind of poison do you use?” Monty asked. “Arsenic,” James said. “Tasteless, odourless, relatively easy to get, easy to dissolve. I usually carry enough to kill about four men.” 

“Sounds useful,” Gabe said. 

“It is,” James said, “but I’d like to take a breath of fresh air without worrying for my life.” 

“Of course,” Steve said. “We’ll need to get going soon as well, so we should pack up.” 

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed. “Let’s go to the house that us and Peggy were staying in and get ready to go. If we don’t see you before you go James, then goodbye and good luck!” 

“Thank you,” James said, an odd look on his face. “And to you as well.” 

+-+

When they were all ready to go, only a little after Peggy and the spy had left, Steve and Bucky came back later than they should have, looking distinctly rumpled and flushed, each with a new hickey on their necks. 

“Really?” Monty asked, throwing his hands up in the air. 

“Newlyweds,” Morita groaned, rolling his eyes. 

“Let’s get moving,” Steve said, blushing bright red and quickly walking ahead of them.

+-+

An hour of walking later, Steve said, “give me a second guys,” and began digging in his bag. 

“You didn’t eat while you had the chance?” Gabe said, rolling his eyes. 

“I’ll just grab some of the bread and eat as we walk,” Steve said, looking ashamed. “I’m sorry, this won’t happen again.” 

“It’s okay,” Jacques said, despite his slight annoyance. “You only get married once after all.” 

Steve grabbed the loaf he had gotten as part of his rations and began walking again, taking a big bite. 

“Tastes weird,” he said, wrinkling his nose. 

“I’ll try a bite,” Bucky said, and ate a small piece. “Can’t taste anything weird.” 

“It’s probably because it’s potato bread,” Monty said. “After that pastry, anything would taste weird.” 

“Makes sense,” Steve said, eating more. 

It was going to be a long walk, but there were no vehicles to commandeer, and they would be too conspicuous anyway. They walked for the rest of the day, Steve eating the entire loaf of bread as they walked. 

As they were searching for a clearing to bed down for the night, Bucky stiffened and bolted into the woods, from which he could hear the sound of barfing. Steve ran off after him, and they all sat down, taking every chance they had to rest. 

Eventually Steve and Bucky came back, Steve supporting him, and Bucky looking pale and worn out. 

“You alright Barnes?” Monty asked. 

“Not feeling too good,” he said, sitting carefully on a stump. “But you could probably tell, with the throwing up and all.” 

“You started smelling a bit weird a little while before you threw up,” Steve said, looking a little paler than he should be. “I think I could smell that you were getting sick. And... I’m kind of feeling a bit nauseous too.” 

“Well that’s concerning,” Gabe said. “Maybe... it was only the two of you that had some of the bread, so maybe it was that?” 

“Makes sense,” Steve said. “But it was fresh baked when I got it before the mission, and the pastries had been out for at least a day longer. If anything, I’d expect it to be the pastries going bad.” 

“Bucky,” Steve said, “I am so glad that you only took a bite. With my metabolism, it would probably take a dose enough for four men to make a dent in my metabolism, but... it might have killed you if you ate more than a bite.” 

“But how could food poisoning be bad enough to effect Steve?” Gabe asked into the silence. 

“A dose enough for five men,” Jacques said, haltingly in English. 

He remembered the odd look on James’ face when they had told him that Steve and Bucky were still packing up, an odd disgust on his face that he had thought might be just annoyance, but... 

“Did you possibly feel like you might have been watched while you were “packing up?”” He said, in English, so everyone else would understand perfectly. 

“Now that you say it...” Steve said hesitantly, face screwing up in worry. “I could have sworn someone was watching, but I didn’t see anyone, so I ignored it, thought my senses were just acting up.” 

“Spies are used to hiding and watching,” he said carefully. “The spy, he carried arsenic, enough to kill four men, scentless, unless you have enhanced senses, tasteless, unless you have enhanced senses.” 

He could see the realization spread through all of the others faces, horror replacing confusion. 

“Oh fuck,” Morita said, looking paler than Jacques had ever seen him. “I think... I think my horrible lie might have been what made him suspicious. I... I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s not your fault,” Bucky croaked. “It’s his fault for hating gays when we’ve never done anything wrong.” 

“We need to contact Peggy,” Steve said quietly, looking pale and drawn. 

“If he spreads that knowledge to base... who knows what will happen. Base might make this the last straw for this team, that we have all sorts of non-whites, and two queers now.” 

“I’ll get to contacting Peggy,” Morita said, grabbing the radio. “I need to fix my mistake.” 

“Why don’t you two drink some water,” Gabe said, sitting next to Steve and Bucky on the log. “Maybe that’ll settle your stomachs while we figure out what to do next.” 

“Kay,” Steve said quietly, taking the canteen. 

They sat for a while, Steve and Bucky leaning on each other, looking exhausted and pale. 

Then the radio crackled and they heard Peggy’s voice saying, “H7C20, this is A1C13, over.”

“Copy, this is H7C20. We’ve got a... bit of an issue. Clear.” Morita said, voice oddly shaky. 

“Copy. Would it happen to have anything to do with the spy? Clear.” Peggy asked. 

“Copy. Yes actually, how did you guess? Clear.” 

“Copy. Well,” she said calmly, “apparently he was not aware that I completely endorsed the celebration. After a few hours he began to talk about how he would be sure to tell the brass, and that whatever they had bribed me with to keep quiet, it would be best that the brass knew no matter what. Clear.” 

“Copy. Is he still there? Clear.” Morita asked incredulously. 

“Copy. In a manner of speaking,” she said primly. “Unfortunately he somehow managed to fall down a hill and hit his head, which killed him. Falls from that hight can be quite deadly. Fortunately for us, I managed to get all the information he had before he fell. Clear.” 

Steve snorted a laugh, and Morita said, “copy. you are quite the dame Peggy. I can tell you that we all appreciate that. Clear.” 

“Copy. And what was the minor problem? Clear.” She asked. 

“Copy. See,” Morita said, “apparently enough arsenic to fell four men only makes a super soldier feel nauseous and a bit off. Clear.” 

“Copy. He went that far? Clear.” Peggy said sharply. 

“Copy. Yeah,” Morita said. “Bucky took a bite, but he’s feeling about as bad as Steve is, so they should both be fine soon. Clear.” 

“Copy. Thank goodness,” Peggy said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some information to return to base. Out.” 

“It looks like we’ll be staying here for a bit,” Gabe said once the radio was off. “At least until Steve and Bucky are feeling up to going after a base. But Steve, now that you know what you can sense... it could be extremely useful.”


	5. Touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not really feeling satisfied with this one, but I figured I’d better post it before I agonized over it too much.
> 
> This one is a lot fluffier than usual, and has a lot more innuendo as well! Basically, Gabe overhears Steve and Bucky have sex, the sex is discussed a little bit, so warnings for that.
> 
> Hope you enjoy?

Gabe couldn’t help but be amused by how cute Steve and Bucky were. They were going on a “date” of sorts, browsing the shops in London, and they had asked one of the Howlies to come along to disperse any suspicion, because Steve had heard a few whispers about them being “too close for friends.” 

Gabe had chosen to come along because after the last mission... after Steve had been injured so badly, with only Gabe who had any medical training at all... he had a lot of nightmares that included Steve screaming and crying. It was easier if Steve was close, it made it easier to remember that he had done the right thing, had kept Steve alive. 

Steve’s breathing still seemed a bit hitched, and he was still walking stiffly, but seemed cheerful, and was walking, so he was doing pretty good considering how bad he had been. Gabe was walking a little behind them, letting them have their time together, as little as he could manage. 

It was a surprisingly nice day, and there were quite a few shops open, taking advantage of the soldiers on leave to try and get some money. There were a few broken buildings, but the spirit of the place was not. Steve and Bucky ducked into a small shop, and Gabe followed behind, ducking under the short doorframe, seeing an entire room of brightly coloured rugs and blankets. 

He nearly slammed into Steve where he was stopped in the doorway, but they all managed to squeeze into the small space. It was beautiful, a riot of bright colours all crammed together, looking oddly hypnotizing in the small space. 

“Wow,” Steve said, going to poke around. 

“Welcome to my shop,” came a voice from nowhere. 

Gabe startled at the suddenness, but saw a middle aged lady come from a small door in the back, smiling widely. 

“Have many people come by?” Bucky asked, looking around the shop. 

“Not many recently,” she sighed, disappointed. “But I am known for soft blankets, and durable rugs, made of wool from my family’s farm. When people get the chance, they come to me.” 

“Something to be proud of,” Bucky said. 

“Our targets aren’t getting any warmer,” Gabe said, remembering the awful bone freezing cold of the castle, ice cold stones digging into his knees as warm blood poured from Steve—“I would be grateful to have a warmer blanket.” 

“And the next one is only going to be colder,” Steve said, thumbing through the blankets on the shelves. “We probably should stock up, at least for you guys.” 

“Not all of us can curl up against a living furnace at night,” Gabe agreed. 

“Oh!” The lady said brightly. “I don’t know how I missed it! You must be Captain America and some of the Howling Commandos!” 

“Call me Steve,” Steve said, shaking her hand. 

“It’s very nice to see you after all the stories I’ve heard of your group!” She said cheerily. “You’re doing a good thing here. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help!” 

“We’re just browsing,” Gabe said. “Your stock is quite beautiful!” 

“I appreciate it,” she said, smiling brightly. “My family’s been doing this for a long time.” 

“They’re really nice,” Steve said, petting all of them. It was surprisingly adorable, and the wrinkles of pain near his eyes seemed to be easing, so at least there was that. 

Then he petted one set aside from the rest and practically moaned. He squeaked in surprise and covered his mouth, blushing furiously. 

Bucky petted it as well, and sighed softly. 

“Well I guess that’s one advantage of having an enhanced sense of touch.” 

“Enhanced sense of touch?” The lady asked, looking vaguely concerned. 

“I have enhanced senses,” Steve said, dipping his head, still bright red. “So anything soft feels so much nicer than most people would feel it as. I’m still not quite used to it yet. That blanket is really soft.” 

“So you like it even more than most people would,” she said curiously. 

“I'll buy it for you Stevie,” Bucky said, grabbing his wallet. 

“I don’t need something like that!” Steve said, head snapping up. “It’s  _ expensive _ Bucky!” 

“Your uniform has been driving you crazy with itchiness since the beginning,” Bucky said, rolling his eyes. “You won’t say it, but I know you. You deserve  _ something  _ soft to curl up in while I'm gone on the solo mission.” 

“There’s every chance I’ll lose or destroy it!” Steve said, looking frustrated. “I get it, it’s a good blanket, but for  _ that much? _ ” 

“And you also nearly died a few days ago,” Bucky hissed. “You were in a lot of pain, and you deserve  _ something  _ that feels nice.” 

“I’ll chip in if necessary,” Gabe said, drawing their eyes to him. 

He was the medic, the one that ended up patching Steve up more often than not, and he knew for a fact that he felt more pain than most, and yet kept throwing himself into situations that got him hurt because “he could take it.” He deserved something like this, beyond a doubt. And if he could help Steve feel less pain, like he couldn’t while stitching him up… it would be more than worth it. (Not being able to give Steve morphine to help him manage the pain, having the others hold him down as he screamed and cried… it was the focus of at least two thirds of his nightmares) 

“That won’t be necessary,” the owner of the shop said. “I'll lower the price a bit, as long as I can say my blankets were good enough for Captain America and his team. That way  _ I  _ get good advertising, and  _ you  _ can have a blanket that you would appreciate even more than my usual customers! We have a deal?” 

“That’s actually a really good idea,” Bucky said, relaxing. “If you’re sure about it, I’d be glad for the deal!” 

“Done!” The lady said brightly. 

When Bucky started putting money on the counter, Gabe slid some bills on the counter. 

“It’s not necessary,” Bucky said. 

“I know it’s not,” he said, “but—I’ll feel better if I can contribute to this.” 

Steve and Bucky looked at him carefully, but they had likely heard his nightmares, knew how much it scared him to have their lives in his hands. If he could do this one thing for them… 

Steve nodded, and the blanket was bought. Gabe couldn’t help but smile at the way that Steve buried his face in the blanket as he hugged it close.

+-+

Steve was fidgety the whole time that Bucky was away on his solo mission, pacing a lot, and spending way too much time going over the information they had gathered from their missions. 

He even began trying to wear Bucky’s shirts around base (which didn’t work at all, he was big enough compared to Bucky that Gabe was sure that the sweaters shoulders would be irreparably stretched, and girls began flocking the corridors in order to see Steve walking around in sweaters that showed off every one of his muscles. Even Dernier flushed a bit at that view) 

It was a bit weird to see the Steve that was rarely flustered by anything, not even a tank barrelling towards him, being so stressed out when Bucky was only on a solo sniping mission, not even a mission that was planned to have any contact with the enemy. Gabe asked him about it eventually, when Steve had begun to gather some rather alarming bags under his eyes. 

“It’s just…” Steve said, rubbing his eyes. “We’ve never been apart for very long. Bucky went to Indiana with his family for a week or two sometimes when we were kids, but other than that and when Bucky went to training, the last time we were apart for more than a few days, I ended up rescuing him from Hydra.” 

“That actually makes a lot of sense,” Gabe said. “No wonder you’re so worried. But he’ll be back soon, then you can see that he’s fine for yourself.” 

“Thanks,” Steve said, smiling sadly. “I probably won’t be able to convince myself he’s fine until he’s right in front of me though.” 

A few hours later in the evening, they were all gathered around the table in their quarters, Steve flipping through papers absently, and everyone else playing a game of poker with their chocolate rations. 

Then Steve’s head snapped up, making everyone come to alertness. “Bucky,” he said softly, jumping to his feet. 

Then Bucky bolted through the door and leapt into Steve’s arms, shouting “Steve!” 

They kissed like they had been apart for decades. 

“Really?” Dum Dum groaned. “Right in front of my chocolate?” 

“How about we go to our room to get out of their way,” Bucky said to Steve with a smirk. 

“Fantastic idea,” he said, already carrying Bucky out of the room. 

“Captain America needs you to use protection!” Monty called after them in a stupid voice, making everything snort in laughter. Those posters had been hilarious. 

Steve flipped them the bird on the way out, causing another wave of laughter. 

They heard the slam of a door a little bit down the hall, and then the moaning started. It was quiet at first, but quickly grew louder. 

“Are the walls really that thin?” Morita asked in exasperation. 

“Oh no,” Gabe groaned, realizing something. “My room shares a wall with Steve and Bucky’s room.” 

“Well,” Monty said, “that sounds annoying. At least they’ve started early enough that they should be done by the time we get to bed.” 

“Speaking of,” Dum Dum said, “from what Steve said, we’ll be heading out about mid-morning. If we count in the time we need to gear up and prepare, we’ll need to be up relatively early in the morning. We’ll need to head to bed soon.” 

“We should wait until they’re finished at least,” Dernier said. 

They all agreed once the gist had been translated. Everyone else (except for Steve, being an overachiever with the serum) had learned some French, enough for commands and basic conversations, but not quite enough to get more complicated concepts across. 

They played poker as best they could with the distractions presented to them, the gasps and soft moans shaking several people’s poker faces at critical points, making it easier to pull ahead than it ever had been. Then the moans got louder, and with a loud cry, the noises stopped. 

“Thank god,” Dernier said, getting up quickly, probably to hide the obvious stiffy in his pants. “Now we can all go to bed.” 

They all scattered to get ready for bed, but as Gabe was about to go into his bedroom for the night, he heard another soft moan. 

“Please more,” he heard, high and keening. 

He froze. Were they going again? 

Another moan, a little bit louder, and Gabe went immediately to Morita’s room. 

“What.” He asked dryly as he opened the door. “I just lay down.” 

“Can I sleep in your room?” Gabe asked sheepishly. “I think they’re going again.” 

“Again?!” Morita said in exasperation. “Definitely come in then, there’s no way I’m leaving you in that room to suffer for however long they go for.”

+-+

Gabe had slept surprisingly well on the floor that night, and he was well rested for the morning… unlike Steve and Bucky. 

They had obviously been getting  _ some  _ rest, but they had woken up late, and were liberally covered in lovebites. Steve especially looked well fucked and lazy, like a big cat after a large meal. 

Once they were dropped off at the mountain they were to be scaling (climbing a mountain so they could jump onto a train to catch a villainous scientist, how was this his life?) Gabe decided to bring it up. 

They had started again only ten minutes after they had finished the first time, he could maybe imagine Steve going again, but Bucky too? He was only human, just like the rest of them. 

“So…” he said cautiously as they began the trudge. “Have a good night Steve?” 

“Wha—“ Steve said, then turned scarlet, blushing faster than he had seen anybody ever. “I… yeah I had a good night.” 

“Long too, judging by what I heard,” Gabe said. If he could make them feel even half as awkward as he had felt last night, it would be more than worth it.

“No wonder you slept in Morita’s room,” Monty said. 

“More than once?” Dum Dum asked. “Right before a mission? I thought you were supposed to be a tactical genius!” 

“I figured Steve could use some relaxation,” Bucky said with a smirk. “So I decided to wring him out, see how many times he could come.” 

“How many times?” Dernier asked apprehensively, a blush brightening his cheeks. 

“I actually lost count,” Bucky said, grinning with all his teeth. “But I do know that he came enough times that I had the time to get hard for a second time.” 

“You know what?” Dum Dum said loudly. “I don’t want to know, please stop talking!” 

“Hmm,” Gabe said, remembering how Steve had moaned when he had touched the fabric. 

“Steve, if your sense of touch is enhanced, making pleasure feel better,  _ and  _ you can come that many times… I kind of wish I had the serum, purely for that.”


	6. All of them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! Warning for sensory overload, though only seen from the outside. The other chapters took place in the same order they were posted in, but this one takes place about in the middle.
> 
> There will also be a sequel of sorts to this, called “Five times a Howling Commando was glad they didn’t have the serum (and one time they wished they did)” so subscribe to the series if you’re interested! It may not happen for a while, as I have a lot of stories I’m working on, but I already have all the ideas, I just need the time to write it.

Bucky hated the explosions that happened when they took down a base, loud and bright, accompanied by the screaming of the people inside, and the awful sounds of a crumbling building. 

Of course, he thought as he pushed himself up from where he had fallen, staggering from the ringing in his ears, it was so much worse when he was this close. 

Luckily Steve had only fallen over from the force, despite him being so much closer to the explosion, a result of him all but throwing Bucky forwards when the explosions began. He wobbled wildly as he got up, and had a few cuts along his cheeks, but otherwise looked fine. 

Bucky was incredibly lucky that he had instinctively ducked and rolled when Steve had thrown him, because even with that, his body ached pretty badly. They staggered out, the other Howlies helping them over the ridges in the field so they could start towards home. 

Bucky’s ears popped once they had gotten to a safe clearing, and they began to set up a temporary camp to rest and assess the damages. 

They had one tent set up when Steve staggered, then shook his head. His ears had probably popped. 

“Feeling better Steve?” He asked, walking up to him. 

Steve winced sharply and put both hands over his ears, starting to breathe heavily. 

“You alright Steve?” Bucky asked a little quieter, moving closer. Something was definitely wrong.

Steve winced again, staggering with the force of it, his breathing getting louder with every second. 

Gabe came running up, but Steve whined, high and loud, collapsing to his knees and slamming one of his hands over his nose and mouth, covering the non-covered ear with his shoulder. His breathing was even more strained behind his hand, and Bucky was suddenly reminded of Steve’s asthma attacks. He curled tighter in on himself, trembling slightly. 

“What’s happening?” Morita asked, hurrying towards them, as Steve flinched harder, trying to curl up tighter. 

Bucky went to rub Steve’s back, maybe he could calm Steve down—the moment his hand touched Steve’s back, Steve threw his body to the side, almost toppling over, making an awful keening sound as he did. 

“What on earth?” Gabe asked, making Steve curl impossibly tighter and make a choked sound. 

Suddenly Bucky remembered that one time his ears had popped after exploding a Hydra base, when everything afterwards had sounded far too loud and sharp, making sounds almost painful. With Steve’s enhanced senses… he made the signal for quiet sharply, gesturing for everyone to back away. 

They did, but Steve was still shaking desperately, hand and shoulder still clamped tight around his ears, other hand covering his nose, eyes tightly shut. 

All of Steve’s senses were enhanced, he remembered. 

And with the way Steve had desperately flinched away when he touched him… he gestured for the others to move farther away, and moved farther away himself, desperately wanting to hug Steve until he felt better, but he knew that would probably only make it worse for Steve. 

“Senses too much?” He whispered, quietly enough that even he could barely hear it. 

Steve flinched, but it was less than it had been, which was a win of sorts. 

He saw one of Steve’s fingers tap the side of his head once, and he remembered their signs, one tap for yes, two for maybe, and three for no, made up when Steve was sick and could barely move his head to nod or shake it without practically hacking up a lung. 

Okay, Bucky could work with this. 

“Can I get you into the tent?” He whispered quietly. 

Steve stayed still, trembling for what felt like an eternity, then tapped a yes. 

Hopefully the tent would muffle things at least slightly, and provide an enclosed space for Steve that might feel safer than being out in the open. He very gently pulled Steve up by the armpits and tried to ignore the pathetic whimper from Steve’s lips, and the full body wince that shook him when Bucky put his hands on him. They were incredibly lucky that Steve had been so close to it when he collapsed, if it had been any farther, Bucky would have had to carry him rougher with how limp and shaky Steve was, and if this little contact was this bad… 

Once Steve was in the tent, he whispered, “I’ll get the others to move away, tell me when they’re far away enough for you to be more comfortable.” 

He then gestured for them to move farther away, and they did, far enough that Bucky had to make his gestures bigger just so they could see them. Eventually Steve tapped once, and he gestured for them to stop. 

“Do you want me to go as far away as them?” He murmured. 

He wasn’t sure on this one, because Steve had always thought his heartbeat comforting, helping him pull through even the worst of asthma attacks, and it had only gotten more so after the serum. Apparently now Steve could actually hear the difference between different peoples heartbeats, and hearing Bucky’s was an easy way to calm him down from a nightmare without getting too close and triggering his fight instinct when he could hear it from across a room. 

Steve slowly tapped a no, and Bucky internally rejoiced. He hated the thought of being that far away from Steve when he was so panicky, and while he could do it if Steve wanted him to… he would hate every second of it. 

“I’m just going to tell the others to stay put,” he murmured. “If you stick a hand out of the tent, you can tell me if I’m too far, or good when I come back.” 

Steve tapped a yes, curling into a tiny ball on the blankets, looking miserable and shaken. 

Bucky crept away as silently as he could, keeping a careful eye out for sticks and leaves he might break, trying to keep the creaking of his leather boots and rustling of his clothes as quiet as possible. As he crept towards the Howlies, he could see them gearing up to ask him questions, but he gestured for quiet again and to gather close. 

He said it as quiet as he could get away with. “Stay quiet. Steve’s senses are overwhelming him, so while he’s like this, do something quiet like write a letter, take a nap, sort some papers. I’ll be closer to him, so I’ll make sure you’re informed. Move a little farther then settle in.” 

The others nodded, obviously hearing the seriousness in his voice, and moved farther. 

Bucky crept closer to Steve again, and he could see Steve’s hand sticking out of the flap, trembling slightly. 

He crept forwards quietly, and when he was still a decent distance away from him, Steve put a weak thumb up. 

Bucky stopped and sat on the ground, in a position he could hold for hours if necessary, and settled in to wait. He couldn’t hear the Howlies at all, and could only faintly hear the rustle of fabric as Steve pulled his hand back inside the tent and rearranged himself. 

He settled and focused himself, knowing that the best way to help Steve now was to stay quiet and calm, be a steady anchor for Steve. Eventually he slipped into the waiting state that usually came with a sight in front of him, or earlier, when Steve was sick and Sarah was at work, where the only thing that mattered was Steve and keeping watch for changes. He had waited all night so many times, just waiting for something to change. 

Time slipped by quickly like this, the sun moving across the sky until he could hear fabric shuffling. The tent twitched open, and Steve’s head popped out, face twisted in a grimace, a blanket draped over his head, and a hand over his nose, but actually coming out. 

As Steve staggered out, Bucky realized that he was only wearing a blanket, and he remembered how Steve had said that the suit irritated his skin sometimes. 

Bucky shifted and hummed softly at Steve in acknowledgement, and barely held back a groan when the muscles he hadn’t moved in… probably hours, complained at the movement. 

Steve set down a blanket and sat down with a groan, slowly leaning against Bucky like he was afraid he would bite. Steve didn’t flinch at the touch, which made Bucky relax a bit. Knowing that just touching Steve would hurt him… was incredibly awful, and he better understood why Steve was so scared of touching him and hurting him when he first got back from the factory. 

“Better?” Bucky murmured. 

“Little bit,” Steve answered quietly, wincing a little, but still pressing against him. “Headache.”

If this was anything like a hangover, where every light was piercing, and every noise an assault to his ears, then no wonder. And that wasn’t even counting all of Steve’s other senses.

They waited there for a while longer, watching the sun start to dip towards the trees, and then Steve shifted again and said, in a voice slightly louder than before, “you can call the others over as long as they’re quiet and don’t crowd me.” 

“Of course sweetheart,” he said softly, glad to see that Steve didn’t flinch at the noise. 

He gestured for the others to come over, still with a quiet sign, and the others began to pack up their things and head over. Bucky thanked God that they stayed quiet, though they didn’t creep over like Bucky had. 

“You okay?” Gabe asked in a murmur, moving in closer than the others. 

“Better than I was,” Steve croaked, eyelids fluttering. “I think I need to sleep the rest of it off.” 

“How do you want to do this?” Gabe asked. “You kind of scared us there, I want to know what we can do to make you comfortable. The last thing I want is to be the cause of pain that we could prevent.” 

“Sorry,” Steve murmured. 

“Not your fault,” Bucky replied. “It’s just what your body did.” 

“Could you camp farther away from us than usual?” Steve asked. “Other than that and keeping quiet, maybe not make a fire, I can’t really think of anything else.” 

“We’ll keep away from you two for tonight then,” Gabe said. “I’ll wrangle everyone to set everything up. I hope you feel better in the morning.” 

“Me too,” Steve said quietly, sagging into Bucky’s arms. “Thank you.” 

“No problem,” Gabe said, and headed to where the others were hovering, his murmur faint, but effective in directing the others. 

“Take me to the tent please,” Steve said quietly, closing his eyes completely. 

“Of course,” Bucky said, planting a soft kiss on Steve’s forehead and getting up. He staggered a bit from sitting still for so long, but was surprisingly steady considering the… hours? he had spent sitting. 

Steve was still wobbly, but could at least support himself now as they walked to the tent. Steve’s uniform was tossed haphazardly in the corner, and they settled into the small nest of blankets and pillows in the other corner. 

Bucky took off his clothes and Steve cuddled close, burrowing his face into Bucky’s neck, and immediately starting to doze. Bucky was incredibly glad he didn’t have the serum, just seeing Steve go through it had been awful, how much worse would it be to go through it himself?

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s the end! I really hope you enjoyed my self-indulgent exploration of super soldier senses!
> 
> In other news, I actually have a new fic that I will start posting, either the Saturday after next, or the one after that, depending on how much I get done. It’s a crossover between Marvel and the Witcher, with Winter Soldier Bucky getting tossed into the Witcher universe! If you enjoy Bucky healing, Geralt learning to express his emotions, Jaskier being a feral sweetheart, and a whole pile of plot and lore, then check it out once it starts posting! I’m really excited to get it out there!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it!


End file.
